


No Where or Way to Meet

by pterawaters



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Halloween, Magic, Multi, Polyamory, Samhain, Sex Magic, Teen Wolf Polyamory Saturday, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the full moon called to him, Derek ignored his parents' warnings, and went running through the woods the week before Halloween. He knew there might be monsters in the forest, Derek just never suspected they'd be so beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Where or Way to Meet

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [twpolyamorysaturday prompt: fall/autumn](http://twpolyamorynet.tumblr.com/post/128550301843/alright-so-i-know-the-colours-arent-really-usual). Graciously beta read by sparrowwingsandfragilethings.

 

The sweet scent of decaying leaves fills Derek’s nose as he lopes through the forest, his breath foggy in the damp, cool air. He knows he's not supposed to run through the woods after dark the week leading up to Halloween, but the moon has been calling to him, crawling through his skin and begging to shine on his fur.

Calling to him through the crunch of dead leaves under his paws and the music of the wind through the trees, Derek follows the moon. He knows the rest of his pack won't be able to hear him, but he pauses to howl, anyway, letting the sound loose from his panting lungs and listening as it echoes through the trees.

The almost-silent flutter of an owl's wings capture Derek's attention and he chases after it, not because he thinks he can bring the bird down, but just because it's fun to chase. The owl hoots down at Derek and tries to outpace him, but he's too quick and eventually it stops, alighting on a branch far above Derek's reach.

With a soft woof, Derek continues on his run, practically skipping through the woods. When he finds a stream, he stops, lapping up the cool water to moisten his dry throat. As he drinks, he hears a twig snap further down the river. He looks up, watching a figure step into the moonlight.

Her hair hangs dark around her face as she stoops down next to the water, dipping her hand into the stream and bringing the water up to her lips. Derek watches, entranced, as she does it again, and then stands. As he looks at her, Derek gets the feeling that there's something he only sees when he starts to turn his head away. A shimmer or aura surrounds her, dusky green; Derek needs to know more.

She turns away from Derek and he follows, his footsteps light, though hers are somehow lighter, as if she barely touches the ground as she walks. Derek yearns to call out to her, but he doesn't want to frighten her with his bark, or take the time to change back into his human form and risk losing her in the dark forest.

The woman approaches a stand of trees that reminds Derek of a doorway, and she pauses. The shimmer unfurls as she stretches her hands above her head, and becomes a set of dimly-glowing wings. _Fairy_ , Derek thinks, ducking behind a tree when she turns. He watches her with one eye as she scans the trail behind her, eyes glancing over where Derek is hidden.

Suddenly, she smiles and gives out a sharp whistle. "Here, boy!"

Derek's moving before he realizes it, stepping out into the clearing, in full view of the fairy. Just looking at her, Derek's head feels full, stuffed to the brim trying to understand her, and her magic, he realizes.

"There you are," she says with a bright smile, tucking her long black hair behind her ears and crouching down to greet him as Derek continues to walk toward her. She pushes her fingers into the fur behind Derek's ears and Derek's heart thunders with conflicting feelings of danger and adoration.  "What do you look like under all that fur?"

Derek shudders as his pelt is painlessly stripped away, leaving him naked and shivering in the cool night air. He shakes off the fairy's touch and looks at her with a growl, getting to his feet.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she whispers, "Oh, you're _beautiful_."

She reaches for him and Derek instinctively backs away, her fingertips falling short of his skin by mere inches. He tries to turn away, to shift, to get away, but he can't move. Meeting her eyes again, he growls, "Let me go."

Shrugging, she says, "If you wish, my wolf friend." She takes another step into the grove and pulls back a curtain of leaves and vines. A dim yellow light shines from beyond, framing her hair as the fairy turns back to grin at Derek. "Or you could meet my lord. I know he would love to meet you."

The fairy disappears beyond the curtain of leaves and Derek knows he should run. He should get as far away from this place as fast as he can, and never look back. He should get back home, and never disobey his parents again.

But there's a rustling sound like music coming from beyond the opening, and Derek feels entranced. His feet move forward and he thinks, _What's the harm in taking a look_?

Carefully, he approaches the opening and draws back the veil of leaves and vines. The air beyond feels warm, and brimming with life, thrumming through Derek's body. He ducks down and enters the space beyond, the leaves brushing his naked back as he lets them fall. He follows the flicker of light down a narrow tunnel that slopes away from the forest floor and down, down into the earth. The tunnel walls are soft and loamy, somehow warm, like the earth around Derek is alive and letting him pass deeper into her cavern.

The sound of music gets louder as Derek crawls further and further down into the earth. He feels like he's almost there when he turns a corner and finds he's caught up to the fairy. She grins at him, the dimples in her cheeks deep and alluring, and says, "Hello again, wolf-man." She's holding out a piece of dark fabric, that Derek eventually identifies as a tunic. "I thought you'd want to appear clothed before the king."

"The king?" Derek asks, taking the tunic and pulling it over his head. The fabric is lightweight, but soft and warm to the touch. The end falls just above his knees and he feels a little ridiculous, like he's wearing one of his sister's nightgowns.

The fairy hands Derek another strip of cloth, this one bright green. He holds it dumbfounded, until the fairy rolls her eyes and takes it back from him, looping it around his waist and standing close as she ties it. "The King of the Folk," the fairy says as she works, looking up at Derek with wide, dark eyes. "Lord of Samhain and the Beyond Realm?"

Derek has never heard of any of those things before. He shakes his head. "What's your name?"

"Oh, well that's an interesting question, isn't it?" She asks, giving Derek's belt one last tug. "A lot of power in a name."

Derek raises his brows and tilts his head. He supposes that's true. "What should I call you, then?"

A mischievous arch to her brow, the fairy asks, "What should I call you, Wolf-man?"

Derek's true name is almost impossible to pronounce with a human tongue, so he tells her, "You can call me Derek."

"Well, you can call me Allison," she replies, setting her hands on her hips. "I'm also called Forestrunner, Silvertongue." She grins again. "Wolfhunter."

A shudder runs down Derek's spine. His voice cracks as he says, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Allison."

Smiling again, Allison takes Derek's hand in hers and says, "Come meet the others."

She leads him into a grand hall that looks like something out of a history book. There are huge chandeliers in the rafters, full of burning candles. Huge wooden tables covered in all sorts of food line the walls of the room, while the center is a mixture of open space, and large cushions, which hold people in varying numbers. In the center of the far wall sits a golden throne.

The throne's spires are in the shape of corn husks, and the fabric on the cushions is all the colors of freshly fallen leaves. The feet of the throne are golden pumpkins, their stems and vines dyed green over the gold.

In the seat of the throne sits a young man, a crown of golden oak leaves perched atop his sable-black hair. He's wearing a tunic not unlike Derek's, though his is deep red and embroidered with swirling golden patterns.

The King – for surely this must be the king – is surrounded by people wearing similar tunics and circlets. Derek almost sees wings on the rest of them, out of the corner of his eye, and he realizes they must all be fairies. The Folk, as Allison called them.

It doesn't take long for the King to spot them. He stands from his seat and calls across the room, "Shadowarcher, what have you brought us?"

All eyes turn toward Derek and he flushes from head to toe. Allison calls back, "Wolf-man Derek, my friend. From Overground!"

Whispers fill the room as the King lopes toward them, a grin on his face. "A wolf-man!" the King cries, reaching forward and pulling Derek into a warm embrace. He smells exotic and familiar all at once, and it makes Derek breathe deeply to fill his lungs with the scent. Pulling back, the King says, "I used to be a wolf-man, before I was King of the Folk."

Intrigued, Derek asks, "Who were your pack?"

The King grins and turns toward the room at large, sweeping out his arm. Derek realizes he means the people – the fairies – in the room, and Derek doesn't understand. Did the whole pack become fairies? How was that possible?

Beside Derek, the King laughs and says, "It's a long story. Stay with us and I might share it with you." The King brings up his hand and touches Derek's face, his thumb brushing lightly over Derek's bottom lip.

Derek shivers and nods, letting the King take his hand and lead him back through the room. As he walks on numb, clumsy feet, Derek asks, "What should I call you? Your highness?"

Chuckling, the King shakes his head. "Just call me Scott."

Derek tastes the name on his tongue. "Scott."

Scott's hand is warm in Derek's as he starts introducing Derek to people. There's a blond man named Isaac, who Scott kisses and calls Fireheart. Next, there's a woman Scott introduces as Kira. When he kisses her, he names her Dawnfox, and brushes his free hand over her cheek and jaw. Beside her stands a woman with fiery red hair, who Scott kisses and names Lydia, Deathseeker.

Next are Erica (Dragonfighter) and Boyd (Decisionmaker), who Scott embraces, but doesn't kiss. Derek doesn't want to be impolite and ask why, and then he's introduced to the last two of Scott's Folk. Derek is sure there were more, but they must've slipped from the room. Again, Scott kisses these last two fairies right on the lips as he greets them. There's Malia (Riverjumper, Coyoteheart), who grins at Derek like she's going to devour him, and finally Stiles (Sparkmaker, Justiceseeker).

While none of the others have spoken to Derek during this process of introduction, Stiles asks, "We don't normally find werewolves in the woods this time of year."

"My parents warned me not to go," Derek replies, lifting his chin.

Stiles steps closer, until he's eye-to-eye with Derek. Gently, so Derek could break Stiles's hold if he wanted to, Stiles puts a hand on either side of Derek's face. "You should've listened to them," Stiles says as he pulls Derek to close the distance between them. Stiles's mouth is hot on Derek's, hungry and demanding.

Derek knows he should pull away. He should run away and never look back, but this feels like something he's needed without knowing. He returns Stiles's kiss until gentle hands redirect him and Derek's kissing Allison instead.

There are hands on Derek's chest, in his hair, on his back, his butt, his thighs. Derek groans and welcomes them, turning to kiss the next person, and then the next. Lydia leads Derek down onto the cushions surrounding Scott's throne, pressing his back into them and sucking under Derek's jaw. Other hands divest Derek of his tunic and then there's naked skin everywhere against his.

Derek groans, he grasps the body nearest his, kisses skin, ruts against the hand on his cock. He's never felt anything like this before, and he feels like he can never get enough of it. And then someone sinks down onto Derek's cock, all tight wet heat, and Derek has to look around Scott to see Kira straddling his thighs. Allison is behind Kira, one hand on Kira's breast, the other on Kira's clit, her lips on Kira's neck.

As Derek looks around, everyone left in the room is either naked or next-to, all of them writhing together in pleasure. Derek groans at the sight. He throws his head back and moans at the slow, brutal pace Kira's working his cock. There's a tongue in Derek's mouth – Isaac's – and then a cock brushing Derek's lips.

Derek's never done this before, but as he takes the cock into his mouth, licking and sucking, he thinks he shouldn't have waited this long to try it.

With a muffled shout, Derek comes, pulling away from (he recognizes now) Stiles, and gasping for air. He closes his eyes and slips into a daze, barely conscious of what's going on around him. Lips kiss Derek's skin, hands touch him, petting his hair, his arms, his chest, his back.

There are fingers inside Derek and he shivers, his body breaking into a sweat, but wanting more, more, more. He groans, seeking out someone, anyone to kiss him and distract him from the intensity of what he's feeling. He finds Lydia, her lips plump and kiss-swollen already. Her tongue tastes sweet and earthy and Derek wants to drink from her forever.

But then Derek's being hauled to his feet by Stiles and Isaac, and presented in front of the throne. Scott sits there, his crown askew on his head, his naked body covered in tattoos (that Derek wants to trace with his tongue), his cock proudly erect against his belly.

He smiles at Derek, a friendly – if decidedly dangerous – smile, and asks, "Do you want my love, Derek?"

The sentence itself is so cliched that Derek thinks he should laugh. Instead, the serious look on Scott's face, the way he leans toward Derek, waiting for his answer, makes Derek's throat run dry. This feels like the most important answer Derek has given in his entire life. His throat clicks when he swallows, and he almost shakes his head, but eventually Derek meets Scott's eyes and says, "Yes."

Scott's smile turns brilliant and he holds out his hand, standing to meet Derek halfway as he lurches forward. Derek grasps Scott's hand like a lifeline, and pours his entire soul into Scott's kiss.

Scott moves Derek the way he wants him, sitting so they're both facing out into the room, Derek on Scott's lap. The Folk around them watch as Derek lowers himself onto Scott's cock, the intrusion achingly wonderful and welcome. Scott's arms encircle Derek, holding him still as Scott draws away and then thrusts back up into Derek.

"Please," Derek hears himself cry out, and his pleas are answered when Scott wraps his slick hand around Derek's cock.

It's too much. Derek's fingers scrabble at the throne, trying to find purchase. He looks back over his shoulder, and Scott is glowing, terrible in his beauty, his face cherub-soft and skeletal all at once as he presses his lips to Derek's shoulder, his neck, his aching lips.

Against Derek's skin, Scott whispers, "I name you Derek, Shadowknight. Moonchaser, Stormbringer, Firebrand, and Nightlover." He thrusts into Derek with every name and Derek's sure he's dying. There's no way a body as frail as his can hold the depth of this feeling. "I name you Wolfheart." Scott nips at the skin of Derek's shoulder, making Derek cry out. He's so close to the edge, he can taste it metallic on his tongue. "I name you Kingshusband. Do you accept these names?"

Derek thinks it's unfair to ask such a question at a time like this, but he still cries out, "Yes," as he shatters into a million pieces and collapses back against Scott, his cock pulsing in Scott's hand.

Scott stills with a groan that turns into a chuckle. With dirty-sticky hands, he turns Derek, grasping Derek's face and raining light, happy kisses onto it. Turning toward the rest of the room, Scott throws one hand wide and cries, "We have a new member of the Folk!"

The small crowd of six (Derek notices that Boyd and Erica slipped away sometime after they were introduced) around them cheers, which is quite the sight to behold. This is partially because none of them are clothed, and partially because Derek can _see_ them as he couldn't before. They glow in a rainbow of colors, shining happily, all of them moving forward to embrace Derek as he falls to his knees in front of Scott's throne.

A light circlet is placed on Derek's head, and a flash of ember-orange catches at the corner of Derek's eye. He turns and it skitters away, brushing against his back like the lightest cloak imaginable. _Wings_ , he realizes with a laugh.

Derek returns the embraces of all his lovers, and laughs again. When he looks over his shoulder, past the glow of his softly wavering wings, Derek sees Scott, sitting in his throne with Allison on his thigh, both of them watching the goings-on with serene smiles.

~*~

The autumn air is cold as Derek runs through it. He aches to drop down onto four paws, to inhabit the form he knows best, but he's still wearing clothes and Lydia will be upset with him if he ruins them. He could stop running and strip, but he's too giddy to stop for even just a moment.

The Folk inhabit this forest tonight. Some of them run, like Derek and Malia. Some of them chase, like Allison and Kira. Derek thinks he saw Scott and Stiles climbing trees together near the Underbridge.

A full moon overhead, Derek drinks in the chilly air and catches a scent he doesn't recognize. Curious, Derek follows the scent until he finds its source. A woman.

"Hello," he says to her, dodging when she lets loose a crossbow bolt in his direction. He smirks at the bolt in the tree behind him and tells her, "That wasn't very nice."

Stepping closer, the woman frowns and squints her eyes at him. "Derek? Derek Hale?"

Derek still remembers his life before. Some of the Folk don't, but Derek does, and this woman was never part of it. "That's one of my names," he tells her, stepping carefully into a brighter patch of moonlight. "I find myself at a disadvantage, though. You know one of my names, but I don't know any of yours."

Her crossbow aimed at the ground, but still tight in her hands, she replies, "Braeden." She doesn't give a last name, which Derek finds prudent and endearing. "You've been gone for a long time, Derek."

"How long?" he asks. He knows time in the Beyond works differently than on this side of the Underbridge.

"A year and a day," Braeden replies, taking half a step toward him. "Your family sent me to find you."

Derek laughs. Of course they would be looking for him. He was silly to think otherwise. "Why didn't they come themselves?"

Braeden raises an eyebrow at him. "They were too scared."

"Oh, but you weren't," Derek assumes, stepping backward as Braeden takes another step toward him. From the shadows, he says, "You're brave, aren't you?"

With a shrug, she replies, "I just want to get paid. Are you going to come easily, or not?"

Fading into the shadows, Derek tells her, "You know, I have new names now. Wolfheart. Shadowknight. Kingshusband. I'm not the Derek my family knew a year and a day ago."

Braeden follows Derek out of the clearing and into the woods, her crossbow held up, her heartbeat pitter-pattering so fast it tickles Derek's ears. He keeps walking backward, and she keeps following him. "They don't care what name you're called. They just want to see you." She takes another few steps and then asks, "Kingshusband?"

Derek puts a tree between them, which Braeden quickly rounds, her eyes trained on Derek. He laughs. Overground people are so peculiar.  "My husband is Scott, King of the Folk, Lord of Samhain and the Beyond Realm. Would you like to meet him?"

"I think I could do without, thanks," she replies, though Derek notices the way her eyes cloud and start to see the wings at Derek's back.

Derek hears Lydia long before Braeden sees her. Braeden trains her crossbow on Lydia and says, "I don't want any trouble. Derek's coming with me."

Lydia laughs, approaching Derek and putting her hand in his. The circlet in her hair has been wound with jasmine and morning glory blossoms. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of Overground people," she tells Derek. "You're not going anywhere, are you, love?"

Smiling, Derek bends down to smell the flowers in her hair, before stooping to run his nose back along the line of her jaw, inhaling all the scents of her mixed together. Eyes heavy-lidded with the pleasure of her scent, Derek shakes his head. "Mm, no. I belong to the Folk, now."

Braeden stands between the trees, squinting at them in the darkness. She licks her lips and asks, "Doesn't your husband mind affairs?"

It takes Derek a moment to grasp her meaning. Shaking his head, he tells Braeden, "Lydia is a Kingswife. We belong to each other as much as we belong to the King."

"Great," Braeden says dryly. "Now, if we can just get going…"

Derek shares a look with Lydia, who smirks back at him and nods her head. Without replying to Braeden, Derek strips out of his tunic and hands it to Lydia. He pushes away his trousers, and shoes, until all of his skin is exposed to the night air. He grins at Braeden and tells her, "You're going to have to catch me first."

As he leaps away from Braeden, Derek sheds his skin and lands on four paws. He races through the forest, leaving Braeden's frustrated cry behind, and leads her back into the woods. Lungs full and muscles burning, Derek stops just outside the Underbridge and howls. Scott howls back, as do Isaac, Malia, Boyd, and Erica. The forest fills with the sounds of the Folk, and Derek grins happily. His blood in his veins screams out his names, and they echo through him.

Shadowknight. Moonchaser. Wolfheart. Stormbringer. Kingshusband. Nightlover. Derek.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [The tumblr photoset](http://pterawaters.tumblr.com/post/128917482304/no-where-or-way-to-meet-e-3755-words-by).


End file.
